


I’ll Poison Myself Until I Feel Nothing (and it’s all because of you)

by pablohoney



Series: An exploration of human emotion and relationships [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 40s stucky, :(, Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: The First Avenger, Implied Bottom Bucky, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Should actually be doing revision but look where we are!, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Well hardly any sex in here but there ya go, not really much of a happy ending either, poor baby, set during
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 03:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pablohoney/pseuds/pablohoney
Summary: He figured he loved Steve when the weather turned from summer to winter and the apartment went from unbearably humid to hypothermic cold, when they'd share the same bed to conserve body heat and Bucky felt like he could explode with just Steve's body heat warming him.





	I’ll Poison Myself Until I Feel Nothing (and it’s all because of you)

_"What a strange feeling it is to lie next to someone you hold so closely to your heart yet still feel alone."_

Butterflies creating tornados in his stomach was perhaps a way- one way- to describe how Steve made him feel. The feeling was intense and consuming, left him reeling and confused. He wishes he could understand it better, act upon it and keep Steve forever.

It wasn't so much his sexuality that he was confused about, he liked having sex with men, he knew that much. He knew that laying with men was wrong. Wrong-wrong-wrong-wrong- _wrong,_ yet it felt so deliciously right. Bucky loves it, it's better than being with the girls, all the women whom were good, but didn't ignite that fire in Bucky’s body, didn't cause him to near enough  _pass out_ sometimeswith how hard he orgasmed, thinking of Steve's hands on him, in him-  
_Just everywhere._

<<>> 

Steve was... to put in simple terms, an enigma, a conundrum that Bucky just couldn't decipher. He was the sun, the stars in the galaxy, bright, dazzling and breath-taking. Golden-retriever-esquel with a heart too big for his body. Bucky didn't think he could ever be so enamoured by an individual, didn't think he could feel so consumed, so acutely aware of the basic essence that constructed Steve Rogers, that made this being, this extraordinary entity that made his heart beat that little bit faster and his stomach twist with something too entirely pleasant.

( _Sometimes, Bucky thinks, the feeling eats him up from the inside and engulfs his being in whole.)_

Blue eyes and soft dimples, blonde hair and a honeyed voice. He needed it to last forever, it healed his heart and made him look at the world with wonder.

(Whatever  _it_ was, some days it was one of the best feelings, made Bucky feel as if he was on top of the fucking world. Yet other days it felt as if all he could do was entertain the idea of even living together in the future, heart aching as he set both him and Steve on double dates, playing a facade that made him feel sick.)

<<>> 

What Bucky felt for Steve wasn't something that developed over-night.

No.

It was something that was acquired over time, through the hours they spent together, doing everything and anything. Bucky felt his heart beat a little faster at the sound of the other man, felt little flutters in his stomach that he couldn’t figure out, sleepless nights trying to deduce just exactly  _wha_ t this feeling was. In between constant denial, so far from acceptance, he refused to accept it.  
<<>>

He was twenty-three, when he realised.

_All along, the butterflies, the clammy hands, that feeling of drowning when the other man was near, it all could be reduced down to love._

Bucky figured he loved Steve Rogers when he was having sex with a girl he met at the club and all he could think of was Steve touching him, Steve kissing him and bringing him to climax.

He figured he loved Steve Rogers when the weather turned from summer to winter and the apartment went from unbearably humid to hypothermic cold, when they'd share the same bed to conserve body heat and Bucky felt like he could explode with just Steve's body heat warming him.

<<>> 

Then Steve's mother died.   
And Steve moved in with Bucky permanently.

<<>> 

Bucky doesn't know how it happened. It blows his mind that he was even able to get so much as a hug out of Steve, so when they kiss, Bucky feels his insides ignite with a spark he's never felt in his entire twenty four years of existence. It's as if the universe finally pieces him whole— and the feeling is addicting, intoxicating.

It's magical. A sensation that intensifies with every moving day. He feels as if he is drowning in the colours of love and lust Steve paints him in, reds and fuchsia’s, mauves and everything soft, mellow yellows and the comfort of blue. He can't feel his heart, can't feel a single part of his body when Steve's around, it consumes his being, making Bucky feel like he's watching from the outside, struggling to breathe, each breath coming in with a heave. Kisses like fire crackling, bursting with Amber fumes, splashing his heart and colouring him in more hues.

He's in love, hesinlovehesinlovehesinlovehesinlovehesinlovehesinlovehesinlovehesinlovehes- _in love_. Bucky _is in love_ , oh so deeply, so beautifully in l o v e, a realisation that he now welcomes with open arms and that wraps around him like the warmest of hugs, he feels so warm, so content. His body is bubbling with happiness and his heart is whole,  _oh so whole_. He feels on top of the world, in-fucking-vinicible.

Steve must feel the same, the thought gets Bucky giddy, as if he's had one too many glasses of champagne. But he's happy,  _so_   _happy._ His whole body thrums with this melody, he knows, feels it deep in his bones,  _this is the man I'm going to marry,_ the one he's going to wake up besides, with his body engulfed in an embrace that's too warm with their thin sheets and lumpy mattress but it's all he wants.

A _ll he that he knows he needs_. For the rest of his life, to be spent with Steve.

He doesn't tell Steve this...

until he does.

Bucky is pinned underneath him, Steve's grip tight on his wrists as he fucks so sweetly into Bucky.

Wantstotouchwantstotouchwantstotouch-  _Bucky_   _wants to touch_ , pull Steve down so he's lying on top of him, he loves the feeling, the pressure on his lungs, making him feel grounded and secure, protected and loved. He writhes around in the sheets, arching his back when he comes but Steve's still in him. He's feeling too much, tears fall with the feeling of so full and so content. Steve is everywhere, small as he is, overtaking all his senses and Bucky loves it,  _loves Steve._

"Loveyousomuch."

"Hm?"

"I... love you," Bucky says, smiling so wide because  _he really loves him_ , it’s a feeling he's felt since the beginning. But he opens his eyes, looks up when there's no response, he expected...an 'I love you' back.

 _Why's_ Steve _taking so long._  He presses a kiss to Steve's chest- right above his heart. "Steve?" He whispers.

Steve's kind of frozen, still, he isn't moving, looking at Bucky with a stunned expression, an expression that doesn't look so good.

_Huh._

Bucky wills his eyes to not water. "I  _love you_  Stevie," voice thick with emotion, he could cry.  _Please say it back._  He hopes he doesn't sound as desperate as he feels, heart pounding through his chest.

"yeah?" It takes a minute, but Steve starts moving again, pounding through Bucky like it's the only thing he knows, and Bucky can do nothing but keen into it, in the spark of his climax, Steve says "you too." And that is all the response Bucky seems to get.

It hurts. It kind of  _really_  fucking hurts. He feels tears but he won't cry because it wasn't a no. It was a  _you too_ and Bucky will take what he can get.

Then Steve lifts off Bucky and moves to tie and throw the condom.

He grabs his top and trousers and-

"You're going?" Bucky whispers.  _this isn't supposed to happening, what is happening._ His heart is frantic and his stomach is in knots.

"I just need some time- air." Steve mumbles with his back facing Bucky, pulling up his trousers and looking for his jacket.

 _But_  that's _okay_ Bucky  _can give him time, can give him all the time, he loves him so much, God, when did he become so fucking desperate._

"I-." Steve starts as he opens Bucky's bedroom door. "I'm sorry Buck." He whispers. Looking over once, briefly, before he exits completely.  
  
_"I’m sorry." His heart hurts._ Bucky replays it over and over again in his head, Steve's mumbled apology.

An apology.

Bucky's entire body aches with the pain that his heart endures. His movements sluggish and slow as he turns over in the bed.

_If he wasn't so torn over the events that just took place, Bucky would've asked where Steve would even go, it was a shared apartment after all._

He doesn't know why but it feels as if he's lost everything he's ever known. He pulls the duvet over his head and resolutely  _doesn't_  cry.

The tears burn, scathing down his cheeks, each breath painstaking.

_Feels as if he lost everything he's ever known because Steve was just that._

_His everything._

<<>> 

There's no more words after that, no more thinking. Just the creaky bang of the front door being closed and a feeble apology being replayed, again and again like a broken record.

<<>> 

It doesn't get any better.

<<>> 

Steve doesn't really talk to him anymore, not like how they used to. Even though it's been months since that  _last incident,_ it feels as if he lost all that he's held close, the bond that Bucky treasured with all his being, gone _._ The most they have discussions about would be the groceries, or about the girl Bucky's tried to set Steve up with- or the date he'd just had. They didn't sleep in the same bed and in the mornings it was a rare sighting to see one another, Steve worked nights, Bucky worked mornings.

It slowly becomes too much for Bucky to deal with, the pain consumes him, makes him feel lonely and sick even with all the girls he tries to get with, they want him but don't make him feel wanted. Not like how Steve did.

So, Bucky takes his draft card and enlists at a local intake facility, better to throw himself into the war head-on than wait, at least then he'd have some kind of worth.

<<>> 

It's easy to forget after that, he throws himself into the work, into the training. works his way up to sergeant.

<<>> 

He doesn't really see Steve whilst he's away. But when comes back, just before he's shipped away, Steve's there with open arms and rejection letter. And for the first time in a year and a half Bucky allows himself to melt into the other man’s embrace, inhale Steve's musky smell for if even one last time. There's tears in his eyes- he knows, but it's hard to feel embarrassed when his best friend is looking at him with his own tears trickling down his cheeks.

_And there's nothing more Bucky wants to do than kiss Steve in that moment to preserve forever._

But he doesn't of course, why would he? There's a hand clamping his shoulder before Steve murmurs, "You're going to be the best damn sergeant this army has ever seen- I'm so proud of you Buck-" Bucky can't seem to hear the rest of Steve's short speech, mind buzzing with how  _proud Steve was_  of him, how he'll be the  _best damn sergeant._

_He makes a silent vow to never let Steve down._

_< <>>_ 

They're shipped off to England.

Goodbyes are never easy, Bucky's glad that he doesn't start crying in front of Steve, just sucks it up until they're in the ship- where he allows himself to just  _feel_ and take in everything, the dam breaks but there's only a few tears, thankfully.

<<>> 

Time moves, wars are fought, he's doing well- until he's not.

His units been captured, they're imprisoned and kept in cells. No one knows what's to happen next.

 _They_  come back every day, speaking about something in German and torturing in ways Bucky could've never known existed. His entire being aches so much, the only thing left with him are the memories. The memories with Steve- those are the ones that Bucky allows his mind to sink into when they inject him with substances that feel like they're melting every vein in his body, his memories with Steve are the ones he sinks into when they question him, beat him up and thrash him about. His memories with Steve- Steve is the only one that keep him going, his only motivation to be freed and discharged so he could see Steve, feel him and drink him in, live with him and love him-

 _Oh, but that last part,_  Bucky thinks,  _will probably remain nothing but a childish dream._

<<>> 

After a particularly painful session Bucky's left tied up alone until they of course come back to cut him up once again. In his hazy state he dreams of a man, a great big blonde man with a striking resemblance to his Stevie- Oh he's so handsome. Bucky smiles, feeling somewhat lighter at imagining, being in the presence something so beautiful-

Except there are hands grabbing at his shoulders, the same hands of that beautiful but very real human being so close that Bucky can feel the man’s warmth and  _oh-_

 _"_ Steve," he breathes, feeling his mind break from its high state, reality slipping through in increments, breaking out of that medical induced haze to come face to face with someone he'd thought he'd never get the chance to see again.

"Bucky!" He exclaims, pulling the brunette up into a sitting position to engulf him in a hug.

"I-I thought you were smaller." Is the first thing Bucky can think of, shell-shocked. It feels as if he's transcended from his very own body.

"I thought you were dead." Steve says, the pain heartachingly audible in his tone.

Bucky melts into Steve's arms,  _how he's missed this, Steve’s warmth and smell._ Tears prickle at his eyes, they embrace each other for not a moment longer as they work together to find an escape alongside freeing all the prisoners. Bucky feels happiness bubble in his gut because once again Steve and he are partners- a unit. He feels lighter than he's felt for the longest time as he fights his way out, kicking, jumping, pushing and running, feeling exhilarated and whole.

They don't make it out easy, there were moments Bucky feared he'd lose Steve all over again, when the building is burning and breaking down- but no, not again. not without Steve, never without Steve.

When they make it out, on the way back with the soldiers it feels as if a weight is lifted off his chest, Bucky smiles for the first time since joining the army, looking at Steve, there's so many questions he wants to ask, there's so much to talk about.

( _Most of all Bucky wants to climb Steve like a fucking tree, so fucking overwhelmed and happy that Steve was present and healthy. He wants to kiss and melt into Steve's being_.  _Wants to just be hugged, just one hug, to piece him back into the person he used to be, build him back up and let him be free.)_

There's a look in Steve's eyes that reads accomplishment, there's happiness that seems to wash away all the stress and sadness away, Bucky can't help but think that he may have played a part in that- in Steve finding his happiness.

Both men share a look, it's intense and Bucky feels the emotion bubbling in his gut, it's on the tip of his tongue he's about to say it until he hears the screaming- yelling. They were back.

He realises that they've reached base.

There are people shouting, jumping on them, praising Steve for bringing them back, soldiers embracing and officials with small but genuine smiles. In the mess of its Steve's still there and he feels like Bucky's anchor in all this chaos.

Until she comes forward.

She is agent Margaret Carter, he comes to realise.

There's a fond smile on her face, she's looking at Steve with something close to relief, happiness and - - oh.

_Love._

She moves forward so she's in front of Steve, and Steve looks down with the same fond expression on his face- the chemistry feels palpable. It feels a little like his heart is breaking into a million tiny pieces when he realises just what they might mean to each other.

and Bucky doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, Steve  _was his. His his his hishishis._

But he wasn't. Not really.

He keeps it together, a tight smile as he watches their interaction, Agent carter being pulled into a hug by Steve, his arms engulfing her body and his face pressed into her neck- he looks away, there's soldiers whooping and yelling crude comments at the supposed couple and Bucky wants to gag.

<<>> 

It's been a couple months. Bucky doesn't know where they are, somewhere on European grounds trying to take down these fucking Hydra bases. He feels tired and sore, in constant pain, it never ends, not even when he falls into a fitful sleep.

He and Steve... they're good. Well as good as good can get.

It's not the same anymore, not like how they used to be, when they were just best friends. Bucky misses it with all his heart and soul, he just wants  _his_ Stevie back. The five foot something, mouthy motherfucker that Bucky fell in love with.

He doesn't know who  _this_ Steve is. He's finding it increasingly harder to reconnect, to speak to him. He feels like a shadow, lurking in the backgrounds and only needed when his marksmanship is. Steve barely leaves with a minute to even converse anymore, nothing is the same and Bucky doesn't know where he fits.

Not anymore.

It's night-time and Bucky finds himself alone. That's nothing new. Everyone else, Dugan, Morita, FrenchieGabe- all of down at a pub fuck knows where, doing fuck   
knows what, with fuck knows who. Bucky feels so lonely, so angry.

So, hurt.

_So sad._

_He could punch a fucking wall._

_It's ravaging, swallows his mind and soul whole._

Trying to grasp and grapple on to the one thing that keeps him whole,

It doesn't work. There's nothing left that he has that wants him too.

Shades of grey. That is what it feels like now. red is pain, it sears and stings, cutting and burning. yellows make him feel sick and worn. Blue is the coldest, icy and unwanting, it's a home no more. It's so incredibly painful to be taking a backseat in your own life, Bucky doesn't know who he is or where he stands. Nothing feels right.

Nothing is the same.

It'll get better, it always does, or so Bucky hopes and desperately prays. But Bucky knows, the world keeps moving but the memories always stay, whether that's a curse or gift is still something he's trying to figure out and work around.

For now, he'll stay watching from the side-lines as the only person he's ever wanted,  _the only person that made his entire body tingle and tickle with such intensity, the only person he'd ever loved with a great licking flare in his heart,_ be with a person who he'd only have dreamed to be in the position of. Unconditional love and happiness. Promises of it all, receiving nothing at all.

The whole entire world seems to be at war and so is his entire heart.

⛈

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing that hasn’t been done here folks, but i do hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Inspired by The Weeknd I Was Never There  
> &  
> Frank Ocean Bad Religion.
> 
> Sooooo Bucky is perpetually sad in this, poor baby. Sorry for any mistakes or whatnot I only read over it as best as I could, I know there are a few things that don’t entirely /fit/ but I wrote this all in a few hours based off another fic I wrote. 
> 
> Also if youre looking for a fic worth reading, a good, BLOODY good angsty fic to read is ‘Bad Religion’ by sangha. That fic just hits all the right places and based off bad religion! Their writing is just gorgeous and so rich *heart eyes*
> 
> All the love!


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